The Girl in the Academy
by the psycho sour skittle
Summary: A set of remains found four years after their demise sends Booth and the Squint Squad on a whirlwind adventure into a world that none imagined either probable or possible. AU. You have been forewarned. Reluctantly discontinued, lost all my files.


**Story Title**: The Girl in the Academy

**Author**: The Psycho Sour Skittle

**Story Rating**: M for dark themes and possible smut interlaced throughout, depending on my mood.

**Summary**: A set of remains found four years after their demise sends Booth and the Squint Squad on a whirlwind adventure into a world that none imagined either probable or possible. AU only because Zach was never tied to Gormangon in anyway, shape, or form, and Angela and Hodgins never broke up.

**Chapter: Prologue**

**Disclaimer**: I mean no copy-write infringement or author infringement. Bones is not mine. Firefly the show, idea, and insect are not mine, but Joss's…and God's. Joss created the show. God created the insect…and Joss. Neither is the poem mine. However, anyone you don't recognize belongs to me. Or my brother. He's my inspiration at times.

**AN**: I was reading through some old nursery rhyme book I found and couldn't get this one out of my head. Only, instead of happy children joyously singing it as they skipped around in a circle, I heard a creepy, dark, ominous-sounding voice almost chanting hypnotically the words to this poem and instantly connected it to River from Firefly and thought about what would happen if an 'academy' similar to that existed here today on 'Earth-that-Was.' If you see a resemblance to either Firefly or Serenity, it's because of what I mentioned the sentence before. Enjoy and give me feedback please!

_Ring around the rosy_

_A pocketful of posies_

"_Ashes, Ashes"_

_We all fall down!_

_**October, 2006**_

_**Location Unknown**_

Still…

Silent…

Motionless…

Lifeless…

_Dark._

The room was a continuing, never-ending darkness, one that faded into a not-quite-black, but dark grey where the wall met with the door that led to the outside world. The blackness absorbed and disguised any movement in the room, that is, if she dared to move any more than was required for each shallow, life-saving breath. Though for how much longer her lungs would be allowed to continue to bring in the oxygen, she had no way of knowing.

Her mid-back length dark brown hair hung limply, framing her face with the tangled tresses and only enhanced her pathetic, dejected appearance. Her lifeless brown eyes remained focused on one focal point in mid-air. Her mind was void of life, of light, of _hope_…for none of those were allowed in her room, her prison, though it had been what felt as if a lifetime since she had thought of it as such. Maybe it _had_ been a lifetime. Perhaps she had been born here or even perhaps had just simply _been_. She could recall nothing outside of this inky blackness that was her universe. She had no recollection of light, _sound_, save for her own voice that she used minimally.

"_Ring around the rosy_…"

A soft, raspy, whispery voice seemed to float from the furthest corner of the room throughout the dark, dusty room, just barely loud enough to be heard, but soft enough to not leave the room where safe harbor protected and sheltered her. If the sound carried outside the small, sketchy haven, then she would be taken outside to where pain and screaming and death dwelt. She had seen it before…experienced it. She couldn't recall ever feeling such pain, but again…she couldn't recall anything outside of her current world.

Did she once have parents? Or did she simply crystallize from nothing? She couldn't remember and the questions were sucked into an invisible vacuum, away from her numb mind.

It didn't matter. They didn't remember her. No one wanted to remember her. They weren't coming for her. No one wanted to come for her. He told her so daily.

She was hidden from the world, lost in the vortex that he had locked her in to. She could remember nothing else but the blackness, the darkness, the secluded isolation that had become her only refuge from the harsh luminosity from the outside that threatened to burn and scald her.

All sense of time had long abandoned her senses. There was nothing for her to measure the passing of the seconds, hours, days, weeks, months – could she dare think it to be years – which she had been incarcerated for. Night, day, it was all the same to her. Night was day and day was night for she had no way to measure the passing of the days.

…_a pocketful of posies…_

Thoughts raced through her once mind. Mindless thoughts, thoughts that made no sense to her, nor would they be more than gibberish to those who came in to push a syringe full of the basic nutrients and calories required to live. She longed for the taste of food, or for what she remembered as food. Did food exist that did not require the IV needle that had become a part of her body: another appendage that rated above her hands, legs, feet, arms? Or was she always fed in such a way?

All vision had long since departed from her, for she was sure that if given the chance, the very light from the outside would burn her cornea and render her blind – helpless.

Her body released a small rush of fluids and her mind drifted briefly to the tube exiting her left side that was hardly thought of, if ever. Why dwell on what has become second nature? Would she dwell on breathing? No one sane would, but sanity was far from reach here. Was being connected to the toilet by a thin plastic tube natural? Had she used the toilet in such a manner before the darkness? Was there a _life _before the darkness? These questions, too, drifted off into the black hole of her mind where all the unanswerable questions disappeared into.

She blinked slowly, staring blankly at what would be a wall provided she could even see it through the inky black. Did the wall exist? Had a wall ever existed? Perhaps the wall wasn't there and she was only being held captive by her own fear.

A loud rattle of the lock on the door halted the silent questions and only her eyes moved as an acknowledgement to a sound that was deafening to her sound-deprived ears. Her hearing had heightened, for it was the only sense that could not be pulled from her by submerging her in the smoky black of the windowless room. The constant pattering and scampering of tiny claws and paws had long ago ceased to frighten her and instead brought the tiniest sense of comfort even if she had forgotten what being comfortable was long ago.

She closed her eyes slowly to ward off the very dim yet entirely too bright outside light and every footstep was vociferous to her as the black-clothed being slowly entered the room as if she were an unhinged criminal or a savage lion waiting in the shadows to attack. She felt the IV line move slightly and knew what was coming next. She could distinguish the exact moment the concoction of vitamins and calories hit her blood stream for she could feel the rush of nourishment flood her body. Her cerebrum raced through the chemical formulas that was currently flushing through her body and quickly calculated the exact time it would take for the levels to even out through her blood before abandoning the equations for mental blankness once more.

…_ashes, ashes…_

Had her joints melded together yet? Had her tendons atrophied? Had her muscles turned to liquid? She didn't dare move to enlighten her paltry curiosity for if she did, _he_ would surely know and _he_ would not be merciful. The pain he had inflicted on her still growing body was as fresh in her mind as it had been after the first 'session' and every session afterwards.

She lived in constant fear of the outside, for in the outside dwelt pain, suffering, hopelessness, despair, and _light_. Oh, how she both longed for and was horrified by the light.

A flash of light blue walls and a tattered brown teddy bear flickered on a corner of her memory but before she could grasp the fleeting sense of hope it had vanished into the bleak darkness that had penetrated not only the room but her soul, heart, and mind and she was once again plunged into despair.

Oh, how she hated the brief glimpses of the flashbacks of life before for they only served to remind her that her life had at one time been more than darkness and terror.

She could hear him coming down the hall long before he reached the door and began a monotonous mental countdown. _30…29…28…_. Her body tensed unconsciously, every hair standing on end, every nerve screaming and sensitive. His sent reached her before the slight breeze from the door opening did and she closed her eyes again, this time to provide a sense of protection from what was going to come.

She felt herself being pulled to her feet, and just barely refrained from wincing at the sharp shooting pains that came from the hypothalamus and thalamus due to remaining motionless for such a length of time that only her capture knew. With a hand at the small of her back, she was propelled to the door where the lights had been so dimmed that any normal human could scarcely see it. Was she human still? She could see that light as if it were the middle of the day and her eyes were still closed. She knew instinctively where she was being led to.

The_ Room_.

The room where the chair resided.

But not just a regular, normal, tan folding chair that one might find in a large room or a pretty chair that might sit at a dining room table in a comfortable home.

This was a chair that she knew altogether too well and hated every moment she spent in the chair. For in that chair lay agony beyond any living being's comprehension, agony that she was well familiar with. Eyes still closed, she knew the exact moment they arrived at the room. The air seemed different, sterile. The whispers she heard surrounding the room spoke of fear, terror, pain, agony. The intensity of all the emotions swirling around her made her recoil just slightly and she instantly knew that she would pay for her mistake. He tightened his grip on her arm and his gentle guidance became a forceful shoving that had her nearly tripping on her already unsteady feet.

She felt the cool plastic of the cushion on her almost bare legs and her breathing deepened for one breath and went without notice to him and she risked peeking open one eye.

She could see him with his back bent as he prepared his tests. She knew deep down what was coming that day.

She was not to be partially sedated as usual. He needed her _awake_ today.

Fully conscious.

Nothing to block any of what was to come.

Her heartbeat increased slightly and the steady beeping crept up a notch. He whirled around and met her glance steadily, an almost creepifying smile on his face. He placed the small pads of a spidery set of wires and connecters on specific places on her forehead and temples, pressing on each one firmly to ensure its stability.

His hands now hanging loosely by his sides, he spoke for the first time in a pleasant sounding, almost conversational voice.

"Good afternoon, Y259 _dash_ 05."

Afternoon, morning, evening. She never knew if the time of day was what he said. Her wide eyed stare was blank and emotionless even as her wrists and arms were firmly strapped down to the chair methodically and he smiled again at her, his hands reaching for an apparatus that in all appearances could have been a pig-stunner gun.

"Are we ready for the last stage of year one?"

And before she could answer, for he was not expecting one, she let out a piercing, shrieking scream as the needle penetrated sharply through her skull and into her frontal lobe.

…_we all fall down!_

_**April 17, 2008**_

_**Jeffersonian**_

* * *

"Angela, I need that facial reconstruction for the Croatian skeleton. I need to turn that in today." Temperance Brennan reminded the artist as she floated past the office door.

"On your desk already, Sweetie. I finished it before I took you to lunch." Her voice dissipated as she disappeared into the bathroom at the end of the hall.

Brennan nodded and walked briskly into her dark office, flicking a light on as she did so. Pausing by her desk, she sighed and looked over at her couch. "What are you doing here, Booth?"

"How'd you know I was here?" He stood up from his seat and crossed his arms, clutching a folder in his hand.

"My office door was unlocked for one. And I could smell your cologne when I walked in." Settling down at her desk, she began to peruse the pictures from Angela's reconstruction. "Very nice, Angela." She called out as she heard the click of her best friend's heals echoing louder.

Angela's smiling visage soon followed the clicking as she entered the office. "Thank you. For my next trick, I shall put a face onto this lone little man that's been sitting here since his owner arrived oh so many years ago." She picked up the skull on the shelf behind Brennan and made like she was leaving.

"Angela, that skull came from a dig I was on when I first became a grad student. Be careful with it."

"Sweetie, when _aren't_ I careful?"

Booth smirked. "She's got a point there, Bones."

"Besides, I wasn't actually going to take it." Angela rolled her eyes and placed the skull back to his resting place. "I have to do yet another reconstruction of another crypt sent to me by our beloved Dr. Goodman, who is currently exploring the vast reaches of Egypt. He is, as he described it, enjoying a wonderful dig. I call it his 'reliving of the glory days and enjoying sending me through hell' expedition." Her eyes swung to eye Booth, giving him a once over, a smirk gracing her lips. "So, Special Agent Hot-stuff, what brings you here today?"

A slight flush reddened his ears and he shook the folder in his hand. "Case." Handing the folder to Brennan, he continued. "Body was discovered during a routine inspection of the pipes."

"How routine?" Brennan asked distractedly as she scanned the folder, standing slowly to move around the desk.

"Yearly. They're bringing the entire pipe she was found in straight here." His thumbs hooked on his 'cocky' belt buckle and he rocked back on his heels. Her stern eyes met his twinkling ones and he shot his charming grin. "You're welcome, Bones."

AN: This is a test run of this story. Any feedback at all will be appreciated. Just please, make it constructive. I don't want flamers.


End file.
